


The Lover

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You weren’t the only one who got out as soon as possible.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the season 4 episode, Pleasure is my Business. Its one of my all time favorites.

It was a hard case, many of them were but something about this Unsub tugged at Prentiss. She didn’t want to think she saw a lot of herself in her but she did. A privileged background, a broken home, feeling as if there was nothing she could do to stop what was happening around her, and then questionable behavior to cover the pain. Would Prentiss have killed anyone? No. Maybe herself, but it would have been an accident. She just thanked God for her sister, her anchor during much of the insanity. She called Julia from the plane on the way home, knew it was late in New York but wanted to say I love you and thanks. Julia said she loved her too and promised she would soon drag her baby sis out of the FBI offices and take her out for a girls’ afternoon.

 

Hotch was distracted. Watching someone die was never easy, and he gave little pieces of himself to this Unsub. Just little ones but he couldn’t help but think about Jack. Again he worried his long absences would do something to harm his son. Would he one day kill someone and say it was because his father wasn’t there for t-ball games, bedtime stories, and boo boos? No, Jack was fine. He was healthy, happy, and his father was there as much as humanly possible. He would not end up like Megan; Hotch wouldn’t let that happen.

 

They walked into Hotch’s house, still letting the silence linger over them. Emily dropped her ready bag, kicked off her shoes, and immediately went to the refrigerator for a beer. She walked past Hotch and he knew where she was going. She was going to the shower, where she always went when the case was hard on her. He followed her into the bedroom with no words, turning on some music as she slowly undressed. 

 

“Mind if I have some of your beer?” he asked when she was down to her bra and panties. Emily was halfway to the bathroom door.

 

“It’s for you anyway. I thought you might need it.”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

It was a silly question but he asked anyway. He wondered how she would answer as he studied her dark brown eyes.

 

“No.” she shook her head. “I will be though. Don’t worry about me.”

 

“Impossible.”

 

He pulled her to him for a moment, inhaling the scent of her skin as a warm hand stroked down her back. Emily sighed softly in his ear before moving away.

 

“I need a shower.” She said.

 

“I know.”

 

She walked away and Hotch undressed as she closed the door. The music wasn’t helping him come down so he flipped around until he found Steve Winwood singing _Don’t You Know What the Night Can Do_. He grabbed a pair of pajama pants from the top drawer and flopped on the bed. Hotch wasn’t much of a flopper but tonight it was OK. He cracked open the beer, taking the picture from the nightstand and looking at it. 

 

It was a picture of Jack. He was covered almost head to toe in mud, grinning and clutching a frog. Hotch and his stepfather took him out to the South Carolina woods a few weeks ago to explore nature. It had been fun for all three of them and the four year old was perfect content to take a picture with his new friend. Haley bought Hotch a picture frame that said Daddy on it for Father’s Day. It was the only picture he would ever put place in there. Jack looked just like Hotch when he was a little boy, especially when he smiled. Pushing back painful childhood memories, the FBI Unit Chief promised he would never let his son down. Doing it all would not be easy but Hotch had lost plenty of sleep over less important endeavors.

 

Emily came out of the bathroom wearing a Yale University tee shirt and white boy shorts with black lace. Hotch smiled when he saw her, putting the picture back on the nightstand.

 

“Hello there,”

 

Emily smiled, walking over to the bed and crawling into his arms. Hotch exhaled, holding her tight and kissing her mouth.

 

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered, stroking her raven hair.

 

“Would you ever pay for it?” she asked.

 

“What?”

 

“Sex? Would you ever pay for sex?”

 

“No.”

 

“My mother used to always say that marriage was a form of prostitution. She never remarried after my father because she said she intended to own herself.”

 

“Isn’t she pushing you to marry?” Hotch asked.

 

“Not really. Settling down means something different to her. She would be very content if I stopped playing cops and robbers and got a job worthy of my extensive education. I stopped explaining years ago that it satisfied me. She knows that, she just doesn’t understand.”

 

“Well I don’t think marriage is a form of prostitution.” Hotch replied. “Thing #643 your mother and I do not agree on.”

 

Emily smiled, cuddling closer to him. Hotch caressed her back.

 

“Can I tell you a story?” she asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I met someone extraordinary when I was 18. His name was Gabriel Cohen and…”

 

“There was a world famous cellist who…that’s who you're talking about, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes. We met at a dinner party in New York where he and Isaac Stern did a little show for the guests. My mother dragged Julia and I; she wanted to show off her girls. I wanted to meet him because I was mesmerized by his talent. When my mother introduced us he quoted a rather risqué French poem about a woman named Emily. I laughed and it broke the ice. We practically spent the entire evening together. When it was time for me to go he asked if he could see me again. I told him I didn’t live in New York; I was 18 and a freshman at Yale. He nodded and kissed my cheek goodnight. Three weeks later he found me in the campus library. He said he didn’t give a damn about the commute. He took me to dinner.”

 

“You...you were his…”

 

“Girlfriend, Hotch, that’s all. There were no goods for services kind of thing. Unless you count all the traveling we did…he showed me the whole world.”

 

“When did you go to class?” Hotch asked.

 

“I managed. I graduated magna cum laude from Yale.”

 

“I knew that. Why are you telling me about Gabriel?”

 

“Because some people weren’t kind. I kept it from my family, except for a few people. His close circle of friends knew about us but no one else really…he didn’t have any family. He had been a lifelong bachelor and was 50 when we met. He lavished me with the attention that I needed and I did the same for him. He made me feel beautiful, worldly, smart, and significant in his life. Whenever he would pull out that credit card, I would just shake my head. That wasn’t why I was there. Yes, he bought me many gifts but most I declined. After a while it became our ritual.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“He broke it off at the end of my junior year. I tried to be alright with it but I wasn’t. He cut me off completely and I wasn’t going to take that. I confronted him, he told me was dying. It was pancreatic cancer and he did not want me to remember him that way. He refused to let me stay. All I could do was respect his wishes. A few months later his lawyer called me to New York. Gabe was close to death and he wanted to see me; I went without question.

 

“He told me that I brought a joy and sparkle to his life. He said he was glad he ignored his gut and came to New Haven to find me. He told me that he loved me. A couple of days later, he died. I didn’t go to the funeral, I hate funerals. I just tried to move on. It was hard and I beginning a rigorous fourth year in a five year program. I don’t even know how I made it…so many of the days are a blur. When his attorney called me again about his estate I thought maybe he left me the cello I loved or something like that. He left me half of his estate and all royalties from any musical endeavors.”

 

“Gabriel Cohen left you half of his estate?”

 

“Yeah.” Emily nodded. “His note said ‘ _You can't say no now. I may be gone but you will never have to depend on anyone_.’ His estate firm still handles the trust.”

 

“You're a multi-millionaire.” Hotch could not believe what he was hearing.

 

“Yeah,” Emily sat up, pulling away from Hotch. “This case…the world of escorts is not unfamiliar to me, Hotch. When I was in college a lot of girls were doing it. They were girls from privileged families figuring they could finally get paid big bucks for the bullshit they had to endure. There were so many rumors about Gabriel and I but it was never that way. We shared many good years, but there were painful parts as well.”

 

“You are not Megan Kane, Emily. Do you think you are?”

 

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know why I told you this. I haven’t thought about him in years.”

 

“You can tell me anything.” Hotch said.

 

“Tell me something, Aaron. I…I need you to tell me something.”

 

“What?”

 

“I don't know, just…” she shrugged, getting off the bed completely. “Please.”

 

“Well I don't have a story like that. Emily, you surely have nothing to be ashamed of. This man was your lover for three years. While there was a significant age difference between you two, I would never judge you. I didn’t not lash out or call attention to myself when I was in pain, though I am not saying you did. I just felt the less I was noticed, the better. I was quiet, studied hard, and avoided the trouble a home if there was any. I got out as soon as I could. C'mere,” he held open his arms. “Emily…”

 

She sighed, making her way back to his arms.

 

“Your past, every painful, colorful, interesting piece, makes you Emily Prentiss. I love Emily Prentiss, period.”

 

“I love you too.” She kissed his nose. “Gabriel was a huge part of my life at that time. He was the first man I trusted after what Lawrence Clayton did to me. I don’t trust easily and he helped me open up again.”

 

“I know that baby.” Hotch rubbed her arms.

 

“The way people judged us, judged me, I identified a bit with Megan.”

 

“Don’t,” He shook his head. “You are nothing like her.”

 

“One wrong turn and…what if it wouldn’t have been Gabriel?  There were plenty of offers, men who called themselves my parents’ friends. They offered money, jewelry, trips; they said they could make my dreams come true. It sickened me. You weren’t the only one who got out as soon as possible.”

 

“Do not compare something significant, and beautiful, in your life to what happened in Texas. Please.”

 

Emily took a deep breath and Hotch pulled her close. She didn’t cry; he knew she wouldn’t. She probably should have. He wondered if she ever cried for Gabriel. Hotch was a fan of his music, Amelia gave both of her sons the gift of classical music. He remembered reading the article about his death and calling home to make sure his mother was alright. He hoped someone had done the same for the grieving Emily Prentiss.

 

“We should probably just get some sleep.” He said.

 

“Yeah um, I'm not very tired.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“I'm going to…I don't know what I am going to do. Maybe curl up on the couch for a little while.”

 

“Yeah.” Hotch nodded, kissing her forehead. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Hotch. Thank you.”

 

He didn’t say ‘you're welcome’; he didn’t have to. When you loved someone you did those things. He wanted to make sure Emily always knew he was open. He wanted them to be able to share things with each other, especially the tough stuff. Surely the more cases they investigated as both lovers and FBI agents would bring conversations like this to the surface.

 

“Come to bed when you're ready.” He said. “I’ll be here.”

 

“I know. Goodnight.” 

 

Hotch watched her leave the room with her cell phone. He sat there for a while, lost in thought, before turning off the lamp and lying down. Sleep was not going to come until she was in his arms but what other choice did he have?

 

In the living room, Emily turned on the television. Surely, it would not keep her attention but she flipped around until she found _Something’s Gotta Give_ on one of the movie stations. She muted it, and pushed a number on her cell phone. It rang three times before a drowsy voice picked up.

 

“Nat? Its Emily, I know it’s late but can you talk?”

 

“Emily?” her stepmother came out of sleep mode. “Honey, are you alright? What's happened?”

 

“I'm alright. Don’t wake daddy, I'm alright. We’re back from Texas and I just need to talk to someone.”

 

“I'm here. Whatever you need; I'm here.”

 

“I told Hotch about Gabriel tonight. The case Nat…there was this girl and she reminded me so much of myself…”

 

***

                                                                                                                             


End file.
